Terroni Baloney.. (Not entirely but it rhymed!)
Surgeon General’s Warning: First off, I love the food, decor and the place in general. This is not a gripe on Terroni – I will go back again, I recommend you go and I think you will likely enjoy. It is however a post of dissatisfaction and is not meant to flush the entire experience I had there.
A friend of mine runs a restaurant in Toronto that is, in part, known for being somewhat rude – in fact it is down right rude at times. It’s part of the deal and, if you are in the know, it is actually part of the fun. You can jab back, play along and have fun with the whole experience. There is a real interaction in this environment – not a plastic veil of surreal “Hi guys how ya doin?” from a 12 year old covered in charm buttons followed by a hurried ”Is everything ok?” as they stumble past your table to take a next order. He is meticulous about being rude and, although he has a lot of fun being rude, he is deathly serious about it as a business model – this isn’t happening by accident. He is also deathly serious about one thing “If we F*ck up the food we have to start being nice to people.” I have heard him coach that several times and he holds it over his team like a threat. Rude can be fun and I’m all good with that.
Terroni is serious about it’s food. They are also getting fairly serious about being in your face. There is a certain attitude that comes with a $16 personal pizze. The menu specifies that substitutions will effect their efficiency and asks you to simply respect their menu no matter how simple you think a substitution is. They sell cheeky T-Shirts which let you know that they are setting the rules and refuse to sell diet pop (or diet anything).
I ordered a beer – a wonderful Pilsner Urquell (their new glasses are appearing all over the city and I’m drinking it because of them – love ‘em!). Dana did the same. Our cousin asked if they had cider. The waitress had never heard of cider – I found this somewhat confounding. Katherine explained it was English and got no further – she was cut off with a terse “We only sell Italian things here.”
Apparantly the new CocaCola headquarters are in Atlanta, Italy. My Pilsner Urquell has moved from the Czech republic and become Nepalese. Wellington Pale Ale (a microbrewery from Southern Ontario) has apparantly opened a brewery inside the leaning tower of Pizze (sp). The (COLD..eek..) brie on my cheese and meat tray? Italy bought France. You get the idea…
I love Terroni. I will go again. I love waiters and waitresses – and I do not blame the pleasant woman who helped us last evening. But please, if you’re going to push rude/campy service, make sure that they know their facts and for goodness sake, don’t F*ck up the food.